


Save the Day

by lilyhandmaiden



Series: Movie Night [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Spoilers for Episode: The Day of the Doctor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 15:22:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1946196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyhandmaiden/pseuds/lilyhandmaiden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>FitzSimmons watch the Doctor Who 50th Anniversary Special-- with some help from Skye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Save the Day

**Author's Note:**

> I know several others have written on this topic, but this is my take. Please note that there are spoilers for "The Day of the Doctor" at the end!

_November 21, 2013—1:25 p.m._ _EST_

Skye’s first clue that something was going on in the land of FitzSimmons came when she walked into the lab and found them listening to a song about running. At the time, this struck her as unusual because she didn’t think either of the pale, lab-bound pair were particularly invested in physical fitness and the willful attainment thereof, yet here they were, heads bobbing in time to the music as they went about their work. At least, she reflected, they weren’t singing that song about quarks again. Fitz jumped to shut off the music as soon as he saw her standing there—as though this was more embarrassing than the quark song, which it really, really was not—and once she’d delivered her message from Coulson, she didn’t think much more about it.

 

_November 22, 2013—9:47 a.m. EST_

The next day, en route from a training session to her bunk, she passed the two of them sitting side by side in the lounge. Fitz was studying his laptop intently, while Simmons was flipping through the channels on the TV. They appeared to be arguing about time zones.

“I asked Coulson,” Fitz was saying, “and we’re definitely getting Eastern Time channels, anyway.”

“Are you sure?”

“Hang on.” Fitz typed quickly, then said, “Flip back to the beginning.” Simmons sighed, but did so. “There. _The Today Show_. Note the time in the corner of the screen.”

“Hypothesis confirmed,” Simmons conceded, sounding pleased.

“You guys are weird,” Skye muttered, stepping into her bunk to fetch her stuff for the shower. When she came back out, they hadn’t moved. They were, however, looking more irritated.

Simmons was saying, “I don’t suppose you bothered to ask him if we even _get_ BBC America up here.”

“No.”

“ _Fitz_!”

Skye slipped past them as unobtrusively as she could.

 

_November 22, 2013—8:50 p.m. EST_

Simmons shot Skye and Ward a “don’t-mind-me” smile as she slipped into Fitz’s bunk, a bowl of popcorn in hand. This wasn’t too unusual—FitzSimmons-exclusive movie nights were a fairly regular occurrence.

However, when she emerged a couple of hours later, Skye could hear her telling Fitz, “I just wish it wasn’t 3 a.m. at home so I could call my dad.”

Fitz said, “I know, but you’ll talk to him tomorrow after the whole thing is over.”

“Everything okay?” Skye asked when Simmons walked past her again.

“Absolutely.” The biochemist gave a bright, sincere smile, and walked away with a bounce in her step, which was reassuring, because Skye knew she couldn’t lie to save her life. Still, she couldn’t help but notice that Simmons’s mascara was smudged a little, like she might have been crying.

 

_November 23, 2013—10:12 a.m. EST_

The next time Skye entered the lab, bored and looking for some company, FitzSimmons were leaning over the holotable across from each other, their heads almost touching, engaged in a conversation apparently so intense that they didn’t even to notice her presence.

Fitz was saying, “We’ll be in the Eastern time zone all afternoon, so it’ll definitely be at 2:50 our time.”

“Are you sure?” Simmons’s eyebrows knit together in concern.

“Yes, I asked Coulson. Barring missions, of course.”

“Oh, not today, of all days.” Simmons raised her hands to her cover her neck, her distress at the idea evident.

Skye cleared her throat and the scientists looked up at her like a pair of startled deer. “What are you guys talking about? What’s today at 2:50?”

“Nothing,” Fitz replied hastily. Almost simultaneously, Simmons said, “Nothing important.” The two of them exchanged glances, looking for all the world like they’d been caught out at something. Skye just had no idea what it was, and was frankly getting a little concerned. She raised her eyebrows and waited.

As predicted, Simmons broke first. “Well, it is a little important,” she admitted. “To us.”

“It’s of niche importance,” Fitz conceded.

“I mean, back home it’s sort of a big deal. _Everybody_ will be watching. It’s not every show that lasts fifty years, and are you _sure_ , Fitz, that it’s 2:50?”

“Even if we slip into the Central zone, my watch is still set correctly. Look.” Fitz pushed back his sleeve and showed her. “And I’ll start looking for livestream links an hour before. There’s no need to panic.”

“But livestreams always cut out when lots of people are watching—it happened last night when we tried to watch the American broadcast of _An Adventure in Space and Time_ and you ended up having to go to that suspicious website—”

“Well, we don’t really have any other options unless you want to ask Agent May to land somewhere with BBC America.”

They had clearly forgotten about Skye again, but as she watched them bicker, the pieces all started to fit together. She recognized the clues dropped over the past few days, random happenings finally beginning to make sense. Running, BBC America, fifty years, space and time... There was one obvious conclusion.

“Are you guys talking about _Doctor Who_?” she ventured.

Fitz and Simmons abruptly stopped talking, and their faces lit up.

“ _You_ watch _Doctor Who_?” Fitz asked her.

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “Shouldn’t that have been obvious? I basically live on the internet. I mean, I’m not a _religious_ viewer, but I’ve been watching for a couple of years, and I think I’m caught up. Does your weirder-than-average behavior mean it’s time for the big anniversary special?”

FitzSimmons looked at her as though Christmas had come early.

“At 2:50,” Fitz repeated.

“Only we don’t get BBC America,” Simmons said, “and even _if_ we could persuade May to land, we don’t know how to find out where we could go, and...” Her eyes widened as an idea struck. “Skye, do you think maybe you could find out if any hotels or airports in the area offer it?”

Skye smiled. “I can do you one better. Give me three minutes on a computer.”

 

_November 23, 2013—10:33 a.m. EST_

Matt Smith’s eyebrow-less face filled the lounge TV screen. Simmons was hugging Skye and thanking her profusely while Fitz leaned over the back of the couch, a huge grin on his face.

“This. Is. Brilliant,” he marveled. “Do you think we’ll get to keep this? Because I looked up their schedule, and do you _know_ how much they air _Top Gear_? It’s, like, all the time.”

None of them noticed Coulson had entered until a voice by Fitz’s left ear asked, “What’s all the commotion?”

Skye and Simmons’s heads whipped around and Fitz half-jumped, half-stumbled about a foot to his right. “Sir! We didn’t—uh—we weren’t—we’re not in the lab because...” He trailed off, looking to the others for support.

“We got nothing,” Skye stated.

“Agent Coulson,” Simmons pleaded, “if you could please just give us this one afternoon off...”

“What for?” Coulson glanced at the TV. “Oh, is this _Doctor Who_?”

Skye made incredulous eye contact with FitzSimmons before answering, “...Yes...”

“Don’t look so surprised.” Coulson came around the couch to sit beside her. “I used to watch the reruns on PBS in the ‘80’s.”

 

_November 23, 2013—2:48 p.m. EST_

“What exactly are we about to watch?” Agent Grant Ward asked, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl in front of him.

“It’s the _Doctor Who_ 50th Anniversary Special,” Skye told him, not for the first time.

“I don’t know what that is, but as long as there’s snacks.” He tossed some of the popcorn into his mouth, eyeing FitzSimmons with some concern. Fitz was slowly and methodically nibbling a single pretzel, his eyes fixed on the BBC America promo playing onscreen. Simmons was leaning forward, her hands clasped together, elbows resting on her knees, and she hadn’t even acknowledged the food. She looked sort of like she was praying. “Are you guys okay?”

They nodded vaguely. At this point the entire team was gathered around the television—May from a distance, not wanting to give the impression that she was interested. Occasionally she would step out to check the autopilot.

“You know,” Skye mused as the screen switched to a “stand by” message, “I think this is the first time I’ve watched this show legally.”

“It’s funny you should say that, because I don’t remember this channel being part of our cable package,” Coulson observed.

“Okay, semi-legally. Ish.”

The standby screen was replaced by an AT&T commercial. Fitz made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a groan. Simmons checked her own watch, then grabbed Fitz’s wrist to check his.

Then it started. Simmons squeaked and her right hand flew to her mouth as the opening titles played in 1960’s-style black and white. Her left hand tightened its grip on Fitz’s arm. When the credits faded into the image of a policeman patrolling by a sign reading, “Coal Hill School,” Fitz grabbed hold of her arm in return.

A minute later, Grant Ward asked, “Who’s that again?”

FitzSimmons shushed him.

“That’s Clara, the Doctor’s companion,” Skye whispered.

FitzSimmons shushed her.

“I thought—” Ward began.

FitzSimmons shushed him _emphatically_.

A few more minutes passed before Ward leaned over to Skye and asked, very quietly, “Who’s that old guy?”

“That’s the Doctor,” she whispered back.

“But I thought the bowtie guy was the Doctor.”

“It is.”

“... _How_?”

Skye eyed him critically. “Dude, it’s a fifty-year-old show about time travel. You’re going to be really confused. Accept it. Go with it.”

“Shhhhh!” Simmons hissed in a way which conveyed that this was her last warning.

“There’s no talking during _Doctor Who_ ,” Fitz stated. His expression was dead serious.

 

_November 23, 2013—3:11 p.m. EST_

“Are they even going to break for commercials?”

“There’s no _ads_ during _Doctor Who,_ either!”

 

_November 23, 2013—4:05 p.m. EST_

“I have no idea what the hell I just watched.”

“Aw.” Skye patted Ward’s knee. “If it helps, I’m not completely sure, either. But I think I mostly liked it. I mean, hope and second chances, you know? The guy sees his mistakes, that he hurt innocent people, and he gets the chance to fix it. He saves all those kids. How can you not like that?”

“It’s a nice fantasy,” May said. Skye craned her neck over the back of the couch to see her standing with her arms crossed, half in shadow. For a second, she looked like she wanted to say a lot more, starting with “but.” Then her expression softened into what Skye thought of as one of her micro-smiles, and she turned to walk back to the cockpit.

When Skye turned back around, Ward was watching her with inscrutable eyes. “You’re right. It wasn’t all bad,” he said.

“And besides,” Coulson nodded at FitzSimmons, “look how happy they are.”

The scientists were in a blissfully dazed world of their own.

“Gallifrey,” Simmons breathed, grinning.

“Gallifrey _and_ Tom Baker,” replied Fitz.

“And Time Lords!”

“And Time Lords and—Wait, what happened with—”

“All the Zygons? I don’t know!”

“Moffat.” Fitz shook his head. “But Gallifrey.”

“Gallifrey’s back, and do you know what that means?”

“Mmmm, giant hats and collars? Rassilon and the Master unleashing hell?”

“I was going to say the possibility of Romana, but that, too.” She sighed happily and bounced a little on the couch. “Gallifrey stands.”

Fitz jumped to his feet and helped Simmons to hers. The two of them walked away, absorbed in discussion. Phrases such as, “do you think the Rani,” and “not the bloody Rani again,” drifted back to the three people left in the lounge.

“I think I like it better when they speak Science,” Ward observed.

Skye smirked. “Maybe it would be a good team-building exercise for me to sit you down in front of some Christopher Eccleston _Doctor Who_.”

“No.”

“Actually,” Coulson interjected, “that doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Maybe we should all watch.”

“No.”

“FitzSimmons will be so excited!” Skye’s voice was sing-song as she skipped out of Ward’s reach and toward the lab.

“No!” Ward called after her. Then, to Coulson, “Sir, you can’t be serious.”

Coulson shrugged. “Well, we _do_ apparently have BBC America now. Might as well put it to good use.”

 


End file.
